


make no bones

by ohfreckle



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awkward Flirting, Bad Puns, Confident Alec Lightwood, First Time, Fluff, Handyman AU, Instant Attraction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: After a long and trying day all Magnus wants is a shower and a cocktail or three. There's only one problem: his shower is broken and the caretaker in his building is a terrible slacker.





	make no bones

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Icymalec, I hope you like it!

Magnus steps out of the elevator, chin up and eyes straight ahead, keeping his strides brisk and purposeful. Poise and excellent style is pretty much everything he’s got left today.

He lost his faith in his abilities around noon, right after his meeting, and what little dignity he still had left at three in the afternoon when a car next to him sped through the only puddle within eyesight. The new plum shirt he bought only yesterday as a little confidence boost is ruined, and so is Magnus' mood.

There’s just no good left in the world. Lies, lies everywhere.

All those years Magnus thought finding a publisher for his book would solve all his problems and save him from working another mind-numbingly tedious job to make ends meet. He’s not waiting tables anymore, that much is true. But nobody told him that the roaring success of his debut novel would be the beginning of more problems than even a crime novel writer can handle.

Expectations have skyrocketed since his sophomore novel surpassed the success of his first book, and in direct proportion to it has Magnus' anxiety. Because he has nothing. Nothing worthwhile at least, according to his editor. In all fairness, this is the reason Magnus has dreaded today’s meeting for days. Aline didn’t tell him anything he didn’t know already, but after slogging through the first draft for months, Magnus had hoped that it wasn’t all bad.

_“Brilliant writing, but this plot twist at the end is garbage. It ruins all your hard work in the first half of the script.”_ Magnus takes everything back he ever said about appreciating Aline’s honesty.

So, yes, poise and a fast-approaching deadline are all he’s got today. But salvation lies right ahead behind the door of his apartment. Just a few more steps and Magnus can get out of these soaked clothes, have a hot shower and relax with a cocktail or three.

There’s only one problem: he can’t.

The tool belt in front of apartment PH3 is an unpleasant reminder that he hasn’t taken a hot shower in two days. Magnus isn’t opposed to cold showers per se, but there are a time and place for everything, and he hasn’t needed or wanted one in as long as he can remember. He’d rather have, or even better, share a hot shower.

Said tool belt is attached to a ridiculously tall man poking at the door lock under the watchful eyes of Magnus’ neighbor Isabelle. Maybe luck didn’t wholly desert Magnus after all and the rest of this awful day is salvageable.

“Hi, Isabelle,” Magnus greets, mustering a smile for her. She moved in a couple of weeks ago, so he doesn’t know her well, but judging by their brief talks in the hallway she seems to be a lovely woman. There’s no need to forget his manners just because he’s having an awful day.

The caretaker though is a different matter. “You,” Magnus says, and a little louder when that fails to provoke a response, “Mister…I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Huh?”

“Your name?” Magnus repeats, enunciating carefully and slow, and okay, maybe also a little catty, but he really wants that hot shower.

At least Mister Tall and Grumpy has the decency to turn and look at Magnus while he’s addressing him. “It’s Alec.”

“Okay, Alec with no last name, I’m Magnus Bane. If you can make the time to do your job, the hot water knob in my shower is still broken. Which you would know if you listened to your voicemail because I left already four messages.”

“What?”

Lord, give him strength. Where does this guy take the nerve to frown at Magnus as if he’s the one who’s slacking on his job? It’s quite the handsome frown, but most of all it’s incredibly rude, and Magnus doesn’t have time for this.

“Look, I’m wet and cold, and if you don’t want me to report you the owner of the building, you’ll fix that knob in the next hour.”

“I’m not—“ Alec with no last name starts, but one glare from Isabelle is enough for him to snap his mouth shut. If this is the way to have things fixed around here, maybe Magnus should take lessons from her. That glare is vicious.

“Don’t worry, Magnus, he _will_ fix it,” Izzy says with a wide smile that makes Magnus absurdly grateful it isn’t directed at him, so he can’t exactly begrudge Alec the incredulous look that flickers over his face. “I’ll send him over as soon as he’s done here.” Izzy’s features soften as soon she isn’t addressing their tardy caretaker. “You should get out of these wet clothes.”

Back in his own apartment, Magnus does just that, peeling the wet shirt that clings uncomfortably to his skin over his head as soon as he closes the door behind him. He should just throw it into the trash, but it is a nice shirt, so in the dry cleaning basket it goes.

By the time Magnus has changed into worn jeans and a silky shirt he doesn’t bother to button he’s beginning to feel human again. He should go and sort through the notes from his meeting, get a head start on rewriting, but there’s no use immersing himself into work when he knows he’ll get interrupted right in the middle of it. Assumed that the caretaker finally shows up, but after that intense glare from Isabelle, that’s a given.

Just as Magnus debates whether it’s too early to start on those cocktails, the doorbell rings, right on cue. Definitely time for a cocktail, then. He’s waited three days, Alec with no last name can wait for two minutes.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d actually find your way here,” Magnus greets when he opens the door, but the snark dies on his tongue, and his mouth goes dry despite the drink in his hand.

He’d been preoccupied earlier, but how on earth did he miss how attractive Alec is? He’s even taller than Magnus, his broad shoulders and chest tapering into leans hips and endless legs. Magnus _loves_ a strong man; how is he supposed to resist one as gorgeous as Alec? Damn, Magnus is a writer, _gorgeous_ doesn’t do those hazel eyes and those generous lips justice, but right now he can’t even remember his own name.

“Seen enough to let me fix that knob for you?” Alec smirks, wide and lazy as if he can read what’s going on in Magnus’ head. Considering that Magnus is all but drooling over him, he probably can.

Devastating, that’s the word Magnus is searching for. Devastatingly handsome.

“Of course,” he answers, stepping aside and motioning for Alec to come in. “My knob is all yours.”

There’s a reason Aline slashes most of his puns with a red marker. Lucky for Magnus Alec doesn’t seem to mind and lifts merely a brow, silently asking _really_ before he follows Magnus to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier,” Magnus sighs and finds that it’s mostly true. “I had a long and trying day, but that’s no excuse to snap at you like that. I wouldn’t actually report you to your employer, even if your work ethic leaves much to be desired.”

“Thanks, Mr. Bane, that guy really is a stick in the mud.” Alec sounds relieved and flashes Magnus a quick smile. “He’s so hung up on rules, he drives everyone mad.”

“Please, just Magnus. You know what they say about punctuality being a virtue? Maybe you should try it some time.”

“Oh, don’t worry; usually I _always_ come on time,” Alec says, winking when he catches Magnus lingering on his low-slung tool belt for a second too long.

Devastatingly handsome and a tease. Magnus is so, _so_ fucked.

“Well, here’s the culprit. Worked perfectly well one day, and then it didn’t.” Magnus changes the topic with as much dignity as he can, clearing his throat to hide how affected he is. He’s been around the block more than he cares to admit, but he’s never felt such an instant, gut-wrenching attraction.

“This is an old building, things get stuck all the time, especially with these old faucets. Nothing a little lube can’t fix.” Alec tries to turn the knob, his biceps bulging with the effort, but it doesn’t budge. He nods, apparently satisfied with his diagnosis. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Magnus watches him leave and leans back against the wall, sorely tempted to slide down onto the floor and just breathe for a minute.

Who is this man and who plucked him right out of Magnus’ dirtiest fantasies?

He barely has time to finish that thought when Alec reappears with an old oil can dangling between his fingers. “Where did you get that so quickly?” Magnus asks.

“From Izzy. I needed it for the lock and left it there.”

Is it common practice for the caretaker to be on a first name basis with all the tenants? Or just the pretty, special ones? Every plumber cliche known to man crosses Magnus' mind, leaving him more than a little flustered. Well, he can’t exactly blame Izzy if she has her eyes set on Alec, because Magnus wants to climb that like a tree himself. But then, Magnus himself had insisted on being called by his first name. Time to get his mind out of the gutter.

However well that resolution is intended, it lasts for all but ten seconds.

The soft simmer of arousal in Magnus’ gut flares into the familiar hot squeeze of anticipation the moment Alec goes to work. Magnus can’t help but stare, drinks in the bulging muscles in Alec’s arms and thighs as he throws his weight against the stubborn fitting, his gaze following Alec’s hand as he reaches down and plucks another wrench from his tool belt, adjusting the low-slung strap over a very impressive bulge.

If there was any doubt whether the attraction was mutual, there’s his answer.

Has it been there all this time while Magnus was busy fantasizing about those legs, how badly he wants to feel them wrapped around his hips? He’s not an expert on home improvement, or he would have fixed the problem days ago, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t take this much force to make a stuck knob operating smoothly. Not that Magnus is complaining, not when Alec’s shirt rides up and exposes a pair of dimples on his lower back that Magnus can’t wait to taste.

Because after this particular brand of foreplay there’s no chance in hell he won’t.

“Magnus?”

“Yes, Alexander?” Magnus blinks at Alec whose smirk is way too smug, one thumb hooked into his thrice-damned belt. It’s apparently not the first time he tried to get Magnus’ attention.

“It’s fixed,” Alec says, tilting his head towards the shower fitting. “And it’s Alec, nobody calls me Alexander.”

“Which is a crying shame. I like how it sounds. _Alexander_ ,” Magnus drawls, savoring the name on his tongue like sweet, forbidden fruit. Judging by the way Alec’s eyes darken, Magnus isn’t the only one who enjoys it.

“Something else you need me to fix? Just, you know, since I’m already here.”

Alec’s eyes are firmly fixed on Magnus’ lips. Magnus is sure they aren’t talking about sanitary facilities anymore, but just to see who breaks first he chokes out the first answer that comes to mind. “In the kitchen, right this way.”

“Like I said, it’s an old building,” Alec says, trailing after Magnus and rapping a knuckle against the wall behind the kitchen counter. “Teaches a guy pretty fast how to lay pipe.”

“Did you just—“

That’s it. Nobody is allowed to berate Magnus for _his_ puns ever again.

“There’s nothing wrong with the kitchen, is it?” Alec asks, low and rough, his eyes crinkling at corner.

“God, _no_!”

Magnus crushes their mouths together, groaning when Alec immediately opens up for him. The kiss is hard and messy, no finesse, just pure heat and urgent need. Alec sucks on Magnus’ tongue and slides a hand into Magnus’ hair, keeping him firmly in place where he wants him while Magnus pushes into his space even harder, hauling Alec closer with an arm around his shoulder and all the considerable strength he can muster.

Alec parts his legs for Magnus’ thigh without hesitation, fingers tightening in Magnus’ hair. His hunger for Magnus is brazen, utterly intoxicating.

Palming Alec’s cheek, Magnus tilts his head so he can lick even deeper into Alec’s mouth, wanting, wanting, god, so _much_.

It’s Alec who breaks the kiss, gasping Magnus’ name while he sucks in a lungful of air and kisses a line from Magnus’ jaw to his neck, quick, biting kisses that threaten to make Magnus’ knees buckle.

Magnus thanks every deity known to man for the genius idea to leave his shirt unbuttoned when Alec’s warm hands slide around his naked waist and up his spine, pressing their fronts against each other, sparks of pleasure flaring along the line of his touch. A hot flush slips over Magnus’ face when he rocks his hips and Alec makes a soft, pained noise in the back of his throat. “Can I—“ Magnus rasps, his stomach clenching with how badly he needs to touch.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Alec pants, dragging his lips over Magnus’ throat.

Magnus already feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin, scrabbling at Alec’s fly before he even stops speaking. Getting Alec’s dick out would be a lot easier if his hands weren’t shaking so much, and Magnus needs all his remaining coherent thought to fumble open the tool belt, but some things are worth waiting for.

Like Alec’s cock. _Fuck_.

The first touch drags a hiss from Alec’s throat that quickly turns into a groan when Magnus feels out the shape of his cock. It’s a solid weight in his hand, not overly long but thick, the head smearing wetly against his palm. Images of dropping to his knees and sliding his lips down until they touch the neat thatch of hair at the base are flashing through Magnus’ mind, of his body struggling to accommodate that hefty girth.

“Fuck me!” It slips out utterly unbidden before can even think about it. Magnus isn’t sure what happened to wanting to feel Alec’s legs around his hips, but it’ll have to wait (hopefully) for another hour.

“Are you sure?” Alec’s eyes are almost entirely black, his lips slick and swollen from their kisses.

“Positive, now take that off,” Magnus pants, nodding towards Alec’s shirt. It takes all his willpower to let Alec’s cock slip from his palm, but now that he’s made up his mind, he can’t get out of his jeans soon enough.

Alec’s hand curls around his elbow, steadying Magnus as he wobbles in his haste to step out of his pants and boxers. Not bothering to undress himself Alec merely lifts his shirt over his head and hooks it behind his neck, and then his palms are warm against the back of Magnus’ thighs, lifting him off his feet and dropping him unceremoniously on the kitchen counter.

It’s not often that somebody manhandles Magnus like that, and it’s a good thing he’s already sitting, or his knees might buckle at that display of strength. He’s almost as tall as Alec and even broader, but with a chest like the one Alec just revealed it isn’t surprising that he can lift Magnus with barely any effort at all.

Something hot and brilliant courses through Magnus and he blindly leans forward, want kicking him low in the gut as scratches his fingers through the soft, dark hair on Alec’s chest, flicking a nipple and trailing them lower until he can feel the muscles in Alec’s stomach jump under his touch. “Bathroom, second door on the left,” he rasps, forcing the words out past the anticipation that makes it almost impossible to breathe.

In an effort to calm himself Magnus closes his eyes and leans back, swearing when he almost hits his head on the overhead cabinet. They should move this to the bedroom, that would be the sensible thing to do, but sensible flies out of the window the second Alec comes back with a bottle of lube and a handful of condoms, dropping them on the counter as he steps between the cradle of Magnus’ hips.

Catching Alec by the nape Magnus pulls him down into another kiss that shakes him to the core, lifting and spreading his legs until his feet are planted firmly on the counter. Alec pushes even closer, licks him open with slow strokes, his mouth hot and wet, distracting Magnus from how cold the lube is between his cheeks and the burn of Alec’s finger breaching him.

Magnus arches up into it, lifts his hips into Alec’s touch and keeps kissing him, his body thrumming with excitement and elation.

By the time Alec brushes three fingers over his hole before he pushes inside Magnus is a hot, writhing mess, crying out when Alec’s hand curls around his cock, warm, a little rough, palm twisting over the wet head on the upstroke.

Magnus has never really thought of himself as a spiritual person, but the way Alec’s fucking him open and working his cock, so good he wants to never close his eyes, wants the image of Alec between his thighs seared forever in his brain, well, that’s a revelation. He loves the sensation of strong fingers working him loose, stroking him from the inside in devastating circles, making his hips stutter with every mind-shattering touch.

“Magnus, are you—“ Alec’s voice is rough, barely more than a scrape, pushed past his gritted teeth.

“I’m ready, do it,” Magnus pants around another wave of heat that furls hot in his belly. Balancing precariously on the edge of the counter he can only watch as Alec opens the condom, rolls it down the hard length of his cock and slicks himself quickly, and then there’s the sharp burn of Alec’s cock pressing in, stretching him wide open. “Fuck, Alec,” Magnus gasps, blind and mindless with pleasure the moment Alec starts to move.

Alec fucks him just like he’s done everything else today, powerful and with single-minded intensity. Short, hard thrusts that have Magnus almost leap out of his skin and crying out with every wave of trembling arousal that roars through him, setting his whole body on fire.

The heat of Alec so deep inside pushes the breath out of Magnus every time Alec swivels his hips and hits him right where he needs it. A sharp ache is building in his balls, a tightly coiled pressure that’s rapidly unraveling with the feel of Alec moving within him. Magnus chokes out a thin, ragged noise, his whole body seizing up when he comes, a suspended moment of trembling anticipation before the burning ball of sensation in his gut finally explodes. He screws his eyes screw shut and comes with a pulsating rush all over his stomach, clenching down hard around Alec’s cock.

Later, much later, after they’ve made it to the bed, Magnus rolls onto his back with a tired sigh. Feeling Alec’s thighs around his hips was definitely worth the wait and all the aches he’ll feel tomorrow.

Any time now things should begin to feel awkward, he supposes. Magnus has had his fair share of one-night stands, but he’s always made sure not to bring them home.

But things are different with Alec. Nothing about lying next to him and listening to his breath evening out slowly feels awkward; it feels so right it’s almost frightening, like standing on the edge of a precipice and looking down, even more so when Alec closes the gap between them and laces their hands together.

Magnus heart stutters, a frisson of something warm and electric shivering down his spine. Squeezing Alec’s fingers, he rolls over to face Alec, struck once again by the visceral tug of attraction he hasn’t been able to shake off since Alec stepped through the door.

Fate must really love Magnus to send Alec his way, but it seems to be less kind to Alec. How does someone as attractive as Alec end up repairing doors and showers when he could be making a fortune with his face and body?

On second thought, the answer to that is easy. Magnus knows first-hand that sometimes life just sucks with no reason at all, and Alec doesn’t strike him as the type who’s vain enough or has the patience to dip his toes into the entertainment industry.

“I can hear you thinking over there. Come here,” Alec says, stretching like a giant cat before he rolls over, brushing a kiss against Magnus’ lips. “This should be weird, but somehow it isn’t.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?” Things are a little blurry around the edges with their faces so close, but not so much that Magnus misses Alec’s lips curling into a small smile. “Stay for dinner?” he blurts out, suddenly feeling bold, his mouth miles ahead of his brain.

“Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just—“ Alec frowns and sits up, struggling to free himself from the tangled sheets. “I need to call Izzy and cancel dinner with her. Not a hardship, I can tell you.”

“Izzy as in Isabelle?” My neighbor Isabelle?”

“Yeah, we have a standing dinner date on Wednesdays. Today is Izzy’s turn to cook, which is—“ Alec shudders and makes a face, scrunching his nose up in a way Magnus refuses to call adorable. “Let’s just say it’ll probably cost me at least two years of my life.”

“So, do you have dinner with all the residents here or just with the cute ones?” Even Magnus can hear he’s missing the nonchalance he’s aiming for by far. “Is that why only your grouchy old colleague comes over whenever I call?”

“Yeah, about that—“ Alec turns to face Magnus and bites his lip, his face flushing a delicate pink that even reaches the tips of his ears. Someone just got caught.

“What, you don’t think I’m cute enough for dinner dates?” Magnus quips, but it sounds lame even to his own ears. Something just shifted between them, but he doesn’t know Alec well enough to read him.

“No, no!” Alec says, his face falling when he sees the confusion Magnus can’t keep from flashing over his face. “It’s not—Izzy is my sister,” he confesses on a rush of breath, his eyes wide and uneasy.

“Okay, this is awkward, but it makes inviting you for dinner less awkward,” Magnus jokes half-heartedly. Neither of them is making sense. If Isabelle is Alec’s sister, why does Alec look as if he’s ready to jump out of his skin? And why can Isabelle afford the obscene rent for this place while her brother works as the caretaker in her building?

Except…

“Let me guess, you’re not the caretaker.” Now it’s Magnus’ turn to flush a bright red, his stomach churning with a dizzying rush of mortification. Watching people is part of his job; he should have known the moment he ogled Alec’s ass in those designer jeans.

“Yeah, no, I mean I’m not the caretaker.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how much of an ass was I?” Dragging the sheets over his face and never coming out again suddenly seems like a wise choice, but so far Alec isn’t running screaming, so Magnus just closes his eyes while he awaits the verdict.

“Off the charts.” The mattress dips and Alec presses warm lips against his cheeks, dragging them down Magnus’ jaw. “You’re lucky you’re so hot, or I would have thrown you out the second you started to give me grief.”

“Thrown me out! Who are you, the owner of this building? A bouncer? Isabelle’s hired muscle?” Magnus lifts his chin and angles his head for more soft kisses. Those siblings sure look badass, but somehow he doesn’t take them for the violent type, so he guesses he’s safe for now. Physically, he isn’t so sure about his heart.

“Owner,” Alec breathes into Magnus’ neck, nipping at the skin there when Magnus slides a hand into his hair to keep him there. “I should probably inspect this place properly, make sure everything’s in working order.”

“Gladly,” Magnus hums, too content to be surprised by this new twist in a long, strange day. “Can it wait until after dinner? I’ll even show you my fixed shower. The caretaker here does excellent work.”


End file.
